Monthly Archives: July 2024

Sultry Whispers (a poem)

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Sultry Whispers
by Louise Gallagher

Sky 
Azure bleeds to ash 
smoky haze curls and writhes 
spectral dance 
carried south on winds 
heavy with embers' breath.

Forest
Trees bow low 
leaves droop, listless 
weighted with aphids' silent feast
the forest stands weary. 

Grasses
Each footfall stirs a dust devil 
parched grasses sigh 
whispering ancient pleas 
for twilight's cool caress.

Sun
Unmoved, temperature rising
blazing sun scorches 
deaf to murmured prayers.

The photograph was taken on our drive back from Vancouver last August. The fires were blazing throughout the interior of BC and the sky was filled with smoke, ash and fiery glows.

The air quality this morning was not great, visible smoke hung in the sky above. The heat, even at that early hour, felt oppressive and heavy.

The new normal is upon us as wildfires blaze through Alberta and BC and the winds carry the smoke wherever they blow, impervious to our human entreaties.

Selling A Home-Acing an Interview – It’s all about presentation

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As my beloved, C.C., and I prepare to list our house for sale (it goes live on Monday!) before our big move to a Gulf Island, I’m neck-deep in the art of decluttering, clearing out, and staging.

Staging is all about creating an illusion of space, especially in smaller homes. But it’s more than that. Our realtor says our location and river view are the stars of the show (we’re not on a floodplain!), yet I still feel the pressure to create a flawless first impression. It’s like dressing for a job interview – your chance to shine.

The sales page with its numerous photos is like your carefully crafted resume – designed to land you an interview. Then, the main living area becomes your in-person presentation: open and inviting, just like your warm smile and genuine interest in the interviewer’s questions. Of course, it’s important to not only look the part, but to act it too—ensuring your “home” reflects the qualities that make it a perfect fit for the lifestyle the buyer envisions just like how you dress for success in an interview makes you a perfect fit for the workplace.

But what about the hidden depths? I’ve tackled every closet, drawer, and cubbyhole, making them presentable and tidy. Yet, just like the quirks beneath a perfectly curated resume, I hope potential buyers don’t dig too deep! We all have our little imperfections…(like the bottles and jars that usually reside beside the sink in the master bath that get tucked away in a drawer for viewings.)

Another early morning has me pondering these parallels, inspired by the quiet whisper of the muse. It’s a reflection on time passing, on moving forward, and on presenting the best version of ourselves – or our homes – to the world.

Let’s see if this resonates with our potential buyers on Monday. Wish us luck!

The poem was written one early morning when I arose at 4 and heeded the muse’s urgings. Words flowed in the silent beauty of dawn’s rosy glow slowly seeping across the horizon.

On Loss and Love

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The silky silence of night before the dawn envelops me as I sit on the deck listening to the rustling leaves of the riverbank trees. Frustrated by waking at 3am, I have come out here to savour the early morning stillness in the hopes that my mind will quieten and sleep return.

On my tiny portable speaker, which I’ve carried outside for company, the familiar melody of “Fields of Gold” wafts softly through the air, a song forever intertwined with the memory of my sister’s Ceremony of Life last December. Unexpectedly, tears well up in my eyes, tears I thought had long since dried. Sadness, a ghost I believed banished, returns with a vengeance.

Questions swirl in my mind, demanding answers: “How do you heal an emotion? How does letting it flow ease the pain when it is the very act of letting go that hurts so much?”

Perhaps the healing lies not in erasing the pain, but in embracing it. Maybe the tears are not a sign of weakness, but a testament to the depth of love that refuses to fade. And maybe, just maybe, the rustling leaves carry a whispered message from my sister, reminding me that even in absence, love endures, echoing in the fields of gold forever etched upon my heart.

On Loss and Love
by Louise Gallagher

Death
A darkening horizon
known, unwelcome, denied
the final, silent breath.

Grief
A ravenous beast
unbidden, fickle, relentless
gnawing at peace of mind

Sorrow
A river's endless flow
carving canyons in the void of loss
the search for solace's shore.

Acceptance
A tapestry woven of tears
each memory a shimmering thread
Love's enduring light.

The Language of the Soul

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Perhaps it’s the unwinding of memories as I declutter and organize, or the echoes of poet and philosopher David Whyte’s words echoeing in my mind from the podcast I listened to yesterday as I worked in the garage. Or, perhaps it’s simply that my focus turns inward as I sift through the outward markings of our life in this beautiful home…

Whatever the impetus, this morning was not meant for poetry. I awoke early, completed my morning puzzles (Wordle, Connections, The Mini) and embarked on the all-consuming quest for Spelling Bee Genius status. Barefoot, I made coffee, tidied the kitchen, and took Sir Beaumont for his morning saunter.

But as I sipped my latte, sitting at my desk, looking out at the river flowing past, responding to messages on my computer, the muse beckoned. I fell under her thrall. Words flowed in that space of limitless expansiveness. Two hours later, a poem was born. Heart unburdened, now it’s time to return to the task of decluttering.

Those two hours were not lost time in preparing our house for market. They were overflowing with soulful nourishment, soothing the edges of sadness as we leave this beloved home and our wonderful community here and fueling the excitement for our next adventure—into the mists of the known and unknown.

Life is an incredible journey when I listen to my heart, live with soul, and weave creativity into everything I do.

Namaste

Will You Dare?

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I awaken from a dream, words flowing effortlessly. I surrender to the current, carried along by the momentum of change.

Big changes are upon us. C.C. and I are selling our beloved home, venturing towards the coast, towards sea level. We seek a sanctuary where his breath can find ease, where the COPD’s barbed-wire grip on his lungs might loosen.

In the midst of preparing our house for the market, it’s easy to forget to breathe. Even without the physical constraints of barbed wire, anxiety can constrict my own lungs.

The vastness of possibilities unfolding before us can get lost amidst the mundane tasks of decluttering and sorting through years of memories. Photos, trinkets, and bookshelves overflowing with stories—each a testament to the life we’ve built together.

This home, lovingly crafted to embrace our family, friends, and furry companions, holds countless tales. Laughter echoing over anger, joy enveloping sorrow, love nourishing us through it all.

Amidst the chaos, it’s easy to forget that this adventure—this journey towards the unknown—has always been our life together.

Will You Dare?
by Louise Gallagher

Morning  intrigue,
a room full of doors, 
some flung wide, 
sunlit and warm
with possibilities beckoning
others cracked slightly open,
curiosity whispering an invitation, 
a door shut tight, 
locked-up secrets lurking, 
silent and foreboding.

Beyond each threshold, a mystery 
unfolding
birdsong, 
a city's hum,
the thrum of rain on distant fields
a voice, a scream, a cry, a laugh, silence.

Somewhere, a rooster crows
morning awakens
dawn flees
the day awaits.

Which door will you choose? 
Which unknown path 
will you dare to tread?

What Gets Better with Age?

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The title of this post is today’s daily question asked by the auto-prompter on WordPress. Good question.

As a child, I believed life improved with age. While that’s largely true, some things, like the scar under my chin from trying to reload a BeBe gun while resting my chin on it, don’t get better—they get richer in stories. Life, it turns out, is a blend of growth and weathering, where some edges soften and others gain character.

Of course, some of that growth can become evident on our bodies. Grey hair, wrinkles, sagging skin, widening hips and fuller bellies tell their own stories of time’s passage. Inside me, however, are the invisible signs of how deep my roots grow and how wise my years have become.

These inner changes aren’t always visible in the mirror, but they are etched into my soul. I’ve come to realize that some of life’s most precious treasures don’t tarnish with time. In fact, they often appreciate in value, much like a beloved antique passed down through generations.

Take, for instance, the understanding I have of myself. It’s no longer a fleeting reflection in a pond, but a deep dive into the ocean of my being. I know what makes my heart sing, what triggers my anxieties, and what fuels my passions. These insights, earned through years of self-reflection and lived experience, (not to mention a whole lot of therapy, personal growth courses and a whole library of self-help books) are like pearls gathered from the depths.

Every mountain scaled, every stumble along the path, has etched itself into the tapestry of my being. Whether a soaring triumph or a humbling tumble, each step of my journey has woven threads of wisdom and resilience into my life’s fabric. As I unearth the hidden treasures within each experience, I find myself lighter, shedding the burdens that once weighed me down, and richer in the boundless currency of joy, gratitude, and love.

My relationships have undergone a similar transformation, with some fading like old photographs and others deepening and strengthening like weathered oak trees. I’ve learned to cherish the connections that nourish my soul and to gracefully let go of those that no longer bring me joy. This discernment, born of time and wisdom, is a gift I wouldn’t trade for youthful naivety.

Even my perception of the world has shifted. The black-and-white landscapes of my youth have given way to a kaleidoscope of colors, textures, and perspectives. I’ve come to appreciate the complexity of human nature, the interconnectedness of all things, and the delicate balance between joy and sorrow. This nuanced understanding is like a mosaic, pieced together from countless shards of experience, with each experience contributing to the masterpiece that is becoming, wth every passing day, the story of my life — a life full of Joy. Gratitude. and Love.

What about you? What do you think grows better with age?

Fierce Grace

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A meme circulating social media proclaims (and I paraphrase), “I don’t want to grow old with grace. I want mischief and mayhem.”

I wholeheartedly agree! Give me mischief and mayhem—as long as it’s expressed with grace.

And that’s the crux of it. We often take words, twist their meaning, and rally against not just the word but the very essence it embodies.

I do want to grow old with grace! But a fierce grace. A grace that embraces all my facets and expressions. A grace that allows me to fiercely claim my space, in whatever way I choose. I want to dance wildly, love fiercely, and devour every moment of life with gusto.

So let’s stop quibbling over semantics. Let’s start living—and aging—with a fierce, fiery, and fearless grace.

Start Here

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Start Here
by Louise Gallagher

Start here, 
right where you stand, 
feet firmly planted
on the threadbare rug of your living room, 
close in 
to this space you occupy, 
with weary familiarity
surrounded by the clutter and quiet comfort, 
of your constant yearning 
for tomorrow to rescue you, 
from this place where you stand, 
surrounded by the books you haven't read, 
the stories you haven’t lived,
the paints still drying on the palette, 
and you, still wishing for change.

Change doesn't arrive with the turning of a calendar page, 
it comes close in to your choosing 
to begin right here, 
in this space you occupy,
where the sun struggles to peek through the blinds, 
where tomorrow's light is hidden, 
where rose-pink streamers of dawn remain unfurled 
because you haven't yet started 
here, 
where you stand, 
feet firmly planted
on the threadbare rug of your living room, 
waiting for tomorrow.

The Pomodoro Technique

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The Pomodoro Technique

When a big task looms, my tendency is to dive-in headfirst, think later, and organize last. It’s as if my mind shifts into overdrive, declaring, “Just do it, Louise, or you’ll never finish!” And so I plunge in, relentlessly pushing until the job is done. My hyper-focus can be an admirable trait, I can get a lot done and am adept at juggling multiple balls all at once while staying focused on the task at hand.

The trouble is, in my ‘get ‘er done’ mode of getting the job done, if it involves multiple components, I have a natural tendency to hop between them without much thought for logistics or logical order. This chaotic approach often leads to burnout, frustration, and a final result that’s either haphazardly completed or abandoned altogether. (Not my proudest trait, I admit.)

Yesterday, while wrestling with my disorganized studio (yes, even organizers struggle with organization), I realized I needed a more focused, strategic approach. Taking a break from the chaos, I brewed a cup of tea and turned to Dr. Google for advice on “How to tackle big tasks without burning out.”

That’s when I stumbled upon The Pomodoro Technique. Invented and named by Francesco Cirillo, an Italian university student who used a tomato-shaped timer to power through his final exams (pomodoro is Italian for tomato), this technique aims to combat burnout, procrastination, and overwhelm.

The premise is simple: break your work into 25-minute chunks, timing each segment. At the end of each 25 minutes, take a five-minute break. After four of these focused sessions, take a longer break of 25-30 minutes.

By the time I discovered the Pomodoro Technique, I’d been working in my studio for 3 hours. And, while I’d accomplished a fair bit, I felt overwhelmed by all I still had to do to create calm in my creative space. It was late in the day when I applied the Pomodoro, and yet, after four 25 + 5-minute cycles, I felt more accomplished, calm and content, than in the previous 3 hours of work. Let’s see how today unfolds as I plan on incorporating it into my process to complete the task and move onto the storage area and garage!

BTW – During my Dr. Google consultation, I did come across other time management systems. After all, organizing our time and energy is a personal matter. I’ve tried countless methods, always slipping back into haphazard chaos. For me, the Pomodoro Technique seems to resonate with my natural rhythms and need for variety and focus all at the same time. Knowing the timer will ring in 25 minutes keeps me on task and prevents me from spiraling into “just get it done” overwhelm. Plus, it reminds me to take frequent breaks – which are much healthier than my ‘do it ’til I drop’ method for accomplishing physical labour oriented tasks.

Other Time Management Methods:

  • Timeboxing: Set a fixed amount of time for a task and work on it until the time is up, regardless of whether it’s finished.
  • Time Blocking: Schedule specific blocks of time in your day for different tasks or activities.
  • Eat the Frog: Tackle your most challenging or unpleasant task first thing in the morning.
  • Getting Things Done (GTD): Capture, organize, and prioritize tasks, breaking down large projects into smaller steps.
  • Flowtime Technique: Work on a task until you naturally feel like taking a break.
  • The Eisenhower Matrix: Prioritize tasks based on their urgency and importance.

A New Morning Ritual: Blessing the Departed

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I started something new this morning – a practice inspired by Lynda Watson, host of the “Inspire Me Forward” podcast and author of “The Book of Realizations.”

Lynda recently invited me to join her on the podcast (thank you, Lynda!), and she shared a few past episodes she thought I might enjoy. I love how genuine and present Lynda is in her interviews. In one episode, she hosted a panel discussion called, “On Death, Dying, and Grief,” which was both moving and inspiring.

Right at the start of the discussion, Lynda invited listeners to place a hand on their heart and simply bless those who are gone. That small act inspired my new morning ritual.

Blessing the Departed

Now, at the beginning of my morning meditation, as soon as I’ve lit my candle, I place my hand on my heart, gaze into the flame and send a blessing to my ancestors, loved ones, and all those who have departed from my world.

In blessing those who have gone before, we bless ourselves with love and remembrance.

This practice resonates deeply within me and with what I teach in my 8 week The ReWrite Journey online course: the importance of learning and trying new things. Embracing ‘the new’, reminding ourselves of our capacity to continually learn and grow, helps us break free from routine and the stultifying belief ‘we’ve done it all’, keeping us vibrant, energetic, and full of life.

“Blessing the Departed” is not something I’d ever considered before, but after doing it for just two days, I feel the soft, ethereal beauty of the blessing enveloping me with love.

An Invitation

I invite you to try this simple yet powerful ritual. It’s a lovely form of self-nourishment and a beautiful way to start the day, connecting with those who came before us and sending love into the world.